


Open Road

by vextant



Series: Happy Steve Bingo 2018 Fills [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: And does something nice for himself for a change, Canon Compliant, Gen, Happy Steve Bingo, Steve Rogers's Motorcycle, Steve thinks about his own happiness, window shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vextant/pseuds/vextant
Summary: Steve wants a new bike. Or maybe he doesn't. He's not really sure what he wants.--A fill for the prompt "Window Shopping" for the Happy Steve Bingo 2018.





	Open Road

“You looking at bikes again?”

Steve shuts the lid of the laptop, a reaction he’s since been told is an instinctive one for anyone who’s ever been snuck up on while using a computer. Not that Sam had probably meant to startle him, of course, but when you think you’re alone scrolling down Cycle Trader, any unexpected voice can feel awfully sneaky.

Settling himself into a chair opposite where Steve has set up camp at the kitchen table (complete with wired mouse and charger plugged in nearby—Steve always lugs them both around for maximum laptop-operating capacity at all times), Sam gives him one of his Looks. “Don’t you already have one of those?”

Steve sheepishly opens the laptop. “Two, actually.”

“Oh-ho-ho!” Sam grins, tilts his head forward like he does when he’s about to rib somebody. “Getting greedy are we, Mr. Rogers?”

Sam does this a lot when he’s joking, calls him “Mr. Rogers” from that children’s show on public broadcast. Steve’s seen the documentary and read his book, so he takes being compared to Fred Rogers as more of a compliment than a jibe. Sam knows this. 

Steve blows out a breath, trying to say what he’s thinking. “The Harley, it’s not really . . . mine. Neither is the custom one from Tony. I use ‘em for Cap, you know?”

“You think someone’s gonna recognize you if you ride them in civvies?” There’s no judgement in Sam’s voice. Maybe a little curiosity, but nothing to make Steve run screaming from an explanation. 

Maybe that’s why he agrees. “Yeah.”

It’s not even close to the real reason. Not at all. Steve doesn’t know if he can even really put the real reason into words. 

He wants something of his own. Not a polished relic for display or a lean mean fighting machine modded to hell and back. Something standard, low-key, for cruising and maybe the occasional day at the track—Tony told him that the raceways do that now when there’s not an event going on, that they open their doors for anyone to bring down their car and do a couple of laps. They do it for bikes too. Steve thinks he’d like that. 

But if he showed up on the Harley or the Stark bike, he’d be showing up as Cap. He knows that. Not just because he’d be recognized, but because of something else that he can’t quite put his finger on. 

Maybe he’s complicating it too much. He just wants a bike of his own. 

He looks back to the screen.

“I was looking at this one.” Steve says as in invitation, sliding over to make room when Sam joins him on the other side of the table. “They call it ‘naked’, means standard. No crazy bells or whistles. The guy who’s selling it says he wanted to take it cross-country but he got hurt—he’s alright now, it wasn’t related to the bike—but it’s only got a few thousand miles on it and he needs the money.”

Sam doesn’t say anything, which Steve immediately takes as a sign that he’s said too much. He know he’s  _ gushed _ , like a little kid on Santa’s lap, please please please I want this toy, I promise I’ll be good. He doesn’t need Sam’s permission. He’s not even sure he’s asking for it. It’s just a bike. 

But at the same time, it feels like more.

“It’s not like you don’t have the money.” Sam says. “Could probably pay it in cash if you wanted to.”

It sounds so much like affirmation that Steve shoots him a look just to—just to what?  _ Check _ ? If Sam’s being honest? Steve wants to rolls his eyes at himself. Of course Sam’s being honest. He doesn't deserve to be the target of all Steve's doubts. 

Like he senses that Steve needs something a little more concrete to go off of, Sam adds, “If this is the one you want, I say go for it. Sounds like it’ll make you happy.”

That’s something that Steve hadn’t even considered. After all these years in the future surrounded by friends and doing work that’s immensely fulfilling, he’s still unsure of what his own happiness looks like. Riding is something he’s always liked. He doesn’t know if he can describe it as happiness, per se, because he learned to ride during the War and he can’t necessarily unassociate motorcycles with the end of both the known world and of his own. But it’s something he thinks he’d like to try. 

“Yeah, I think it might.” He says. 

“Well then, let’s get you a bike of your very own. Although I don’t know if you’re ever going to get  _ me _ on one of those rolling deathtraps, you can go have fun—”

“Sam, you regularly strap yourself to an experimental jetpack. You don’t even wear a helmet.”

Sam looks mildly offended. “A helmet would ruin the look.”

“Might improve it, you never know.” Steve chuckles. “Clint would tell you that chicks dig safety.”

“Clint Barton is a  _ walking  _ deathtrap.”

“I know.” 

They both laugh. Steve clicks the “Contact” button. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Here is the tumblr post](https://vextant.tumblr.com/post/177983570466/open-road) for easy liking and/or reblogging, if you're so inclined. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
